Nostalgic Dawn
by yellowNight
Summary: Wilson lit another cigarette, “It’s funny. I gave up smoking as soon as I finished med school. Fifteen years later and I’m chain smoking on the roof of a building at dawn. Some things never change, I guess.” [Post No Reason, WilsonChase friendship]


Nostalgic Dawn

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

_Enjoy! R+R!_

He sat on edge of the building, his thoughts blurry and distorted as he waited for the night to end. The sky had turned to a dusty lilac, the navy of the nighttime sky lifting and the first signs of morning light washing over the horizon.

A cigarette dangled from his lips. He was angry at himself for returning to his old habit, but he needed something-anything-to relieve some of his stress. There was no point in seeking something to drink. The strongest drink the hospital offered was fruit juice. He was already running on nothing more than adrenaline. Instead, he walked to the corner convenience store a purchased a pack of Marlboros. He made a comment about how the prices had skyrocketed since the last time he purchased cigarettes and he rushed back to the hospital to make sure he hadn't missed any changes during his brief absence.

To his disappointment, he was informed that nothing had changed. He mumbled something about needing fresh air and disappeared to the roof.

He prepared to return to the waiting room, when a voice stopped him.

"I didn't think oncologists smoked," Chase remarked. There wasn't a trace of sarcasm or judgment in his voice, though. He just sounded fatigued.

Wilson sighed, "I lived in Montreal for four years. Everybody in Montreal smokes."

Chase just shrugged and leaned against the ledge.

Wilson took a long drag, "Want one?" he asked. To his surprise, Chase accepted.

There they were, two respected doctors, poisoning their lungs like it was nobody's business.

"Why'd you come up here?"

"I wanted to be alone. Cameron hasn't stopped crying for the last eight hours. If I stayed in there any longer I would have lost my mind," Chase responded, shaking his head.

"I know what you mean. Cuddy's even worse. She's crying and making medical decisions at the same time. It's not a good combination." While Foreman, Chase and Cameron had been sitting in the waiting room, Cuddy was frantically making phone calls and trying to handle the press. Wilson followed Cuddy, handling whatever she couldn't.

Wilson lit another cigarette, "It's funny. I gave up smoking as soon as I finished med school. Fifteen years later and I'm chain smoking on the roof of a building at dawn. Some things never change, I guess."

Chase shifted, tipping his head back and closing his eyes, "I was hoping for a quiet day. I slept three hours last night. The neighbors just brought home a new baby who cried the whole night."

Wilson looked at him sympathetically, "I actually thought today was going to be a good day. For some reason, I just woke up with this feeling that today was going to be different. I mean, it was different. I meant different in a good sense."

"Never trust your instincts, right?" Chase opened his eyes as took a seat next to Wilson on the ledge.

"Right. Hey, sun's up," Wilson remarked, suddenly noticing that the sky had turned to a light shade of blue.

"Hey, look at that. I've officially been awake for 24 hours," Chase said, glancing at his watch.

"Did I ever tell you how I met House?" Wilson asked. Chase raised his eyebrows, taken off guard by Wilson.

"It will be six years ago this coming October. We were hired at the same time. We had to go on a tour of the hospital together with this young intern, and House made a comment about her legs or something. I laughed, and we spent the next Saturday together in a sexual harassment lecture. I should have known then that being his friend would mean constantly getting in trouble and watching as he offended whoever happened to cross his path, but honestly, it was fun," Wilson mused.

"Cameron always talks about how there is another side to him, and Foreman always argues that there is no 'other side,' and that House is just a nasty misanthrope, but I can't help but agree with Cameron," Chase said, playing with the butt of his cigarette with his shoe.

"You really think that House has some vulnerable side to him?" Wilson asked.

"I didn't say vulnerable, I just think that there is more behind that exterior. I just assume there is, anyway, otherwise there would be no way of explaining why you're his friend," Chase replied with honesty.

Wilson didn't look surprised, but he did give some thought to what Chase had to say, "No, you're right. It's not a vulnerable side. Instead, that other side is his human side. The side of him that plays the piano, loves sports, TV shows, and reading classic literature. The side of him that actually has a sense of humor. I'm pretty sure that before the infarction, that's just who he was. And since then, he's tried his best to hide that part of himself from everybody."

"Why?" Chase asked

"Why? I don't know why. I guess he figures if he's nasty and pushes people away, then nobody will feel sorry for him."

"But he lets you see the real him?"

"Sometimes. More than other people, I guess. He knows he can trust me. That, and even when we met, I never once showed that I felt sorry for him or took pity on him. I did feel sorry for him when we first met, but after a few weeks I didn't. I just treated him like any other friend."

Chase nodded. "He's going to wake up," he said with confidence in his voice.

Wilson looked desperate, "You don't know that."

Chase heard Wilson but chose to ignore his last statement, "I'm going to the chapel; do you want to come?"

"Yeah, I think I'll come. I'd rather not be alone, but I don't feel like being Cuddy's pillar of support at the moment," Wilson said, swinging his legs back onto the ground from the ledge.

Chase smiled and said nothing. As the two men began to walk, Wilson added, "Not that I mind being Cuddy's pillar of support, I'm just tired."

Before Chase could reach the roof's door, Cameron appeared at the top of the flight of stairs. To Wilson and Chase's relief, she wasn't crying anymore.

"He's awake."

-end


End file.
